


And All the World Will Bleed

by Inksinger



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Cliffhangers, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 19:58:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16165919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inksinger/pseuds/Inksinger
Summary: A collection of shorts written for Whumptober 2018, using prompts set by tumblr user la-vie-en-whump. Some may be expanded upon or used as scenes in larger pieces. Expect lots of hurt, minimal comfort, and mostly cliffhangers. Tags to be updated as the collection progresses.





	And All the World Will Bleed

A cold wind blew through the forest, lending the night an eerie symphony of moans and deep, wooden creaks as it tugged against all but the thickest branches of the white-barked trees. Paired with the orange light of the bonfire that burned in the center of the clearing and the stench of the corpses that had been thrown into the dancing inferno, it made a gruesome scene of the typically welcoming Eversong Woods.

The rangers responsible for the carnage seemed largely unaffected as they dragged the last of the bodies towards the fire to be disposed of, though that was hardly surprising. Halduron never took any but the seniormost rangers available to him on night raids like this one; the darkness alone was an obstacle many found too imposing to overcome, and Halduron wasn't keen to lose more rangers than was absolutely necessary in any endeavor.

Halduron wasn't any more perturbed by the macabre tableau than any of his men, though his nose wrinkled in disgust as he bent down to relieve the last troll of its weapons - including several pouches filled with herbs and powders that could prove deadly to his men if they were cast into the flames.

There was a shout as he retrieved a final blade. Halduron rose and whirled about in the same motion, raising the looted blade to strike even as his other hand sought the hilt of one of his swords.

Across the clearing, one of the supposedly dead trolls had sprung to life and turned on the rangers searching him. Though he initially managed to send the youngest ranger, Parren, staggering back into a bush, the troll was already heavily wounded, and the mad struggle that ensued was nonetheless over before Halduron had taken more than a few lunging steps in their direction.

“Double-check the others,” Halduron ordered, already turning to slit the throat of the one he'd just disarmed. It was unlikely that this or the other two remaining trolls would have stayed down after their companion leapt into action, but Halduron was in no mood to make any more assumptions.

One of his men came to assist him in dragging the now thoroughly dead troll to the fire, and Halduron grunted in approval as he realized his helper was Parren. The redhead carried his share of the load well enough, though his brow gleamed with sweat and the scent of fresh blood lingered thickly in the air about him. Still, he didn't complain or show any sign of injury, and the troll needed dealing with, and so Halduron didn't comment until they had relieved themselves of their burden. Only then did he draw closer to the other ranger, intending to inspect him in the light of the bonfire.

It was well that he did. Parren stumbled as he drew to a halt, and for all they stood nearly on top of each other, Halduron was only barely able to catch the younger elf before he could collapse to the ground. One hand brushed against Parren's abdomen as Halduron rushed to secure the ranger against his side, slipping across a streak of hot blood in the process.

“S-sorry, Captain.” Blood dribbled from Parren's mouth as he spoke, staining his chin and clotting in his close-cropped beard. He started to say something more, only to shudder and have his legs go out from under him as he scrabbled at Halduron's shoulders.

Halduron swore through his teeth and carefully lowered the ranger until he sat slouched beside the fire.

“Andreth,” Halduron snapped, summoning the lone priestess he had permitted to accompany his rangers. _“Now.”_

The priestess raced over as he crouched beside Parren, her hands already reaching for the injured ranger as she dropped to her knees on his other side. Halduron glanced down and cursed again as he finally realized _how much_ blood Parren had lost.

“Help me get his armor off,” Andreth ordered, already unfastening Parren's left pauldron as she spoke. “There's no mark on it, and I can't divine where the wound is on faith alone.”

Halduron complied wordlessly, fingers flying across buckles and leather thongs as he raced to free his ranger from the layers of toughened leather, then tore at the padded cotton of his aketon with a few deft slashes of a knife. They had all foregone wearing plate or maille of any kind for their raid; silent and swift as they all were, the night was quieter still, and there had been the chance that their quarry would have heard them coming in time to prepare themselves for battle.

Halduron cursed himself for it as they at last laid Parren down across the ground, his torso now utterly bare in the firelight as Andreth reached to attend to the deep cut in his stomach.

Parren shuddered, his eyes rolling in his head as he struggled to remain conscious. One trembling hand came up from the dirt as though he thought to wave away his helpers; Halduron caught and held it fast, squeezing comfortingly as he reached with his free hand to brush Parren's hair back from his forehead.

“Stay with us, ranger,” Halduron murmured, clutching Parren's clammy hand tight against his chest. “Stay with us.”

Parren's eyelids fluttered once, and then fell closed. Dimly Halduron registered the sound of Andreth hissing through her teeth… and a moment later, Parren’s hand went limp in Halduron's grasp.


End file.
